


Comfort & Joy

by Erisabesu (ErisabesuFic)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Christmas, Christmas traditions, Domestic, Family, Fluff, HQRarepairweek, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Married Life, Omigiri centric, Post-Canon, Romance, Shenanigans, mild alcohol consumption, omigiridecember
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28299390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErisabesuFic/pseuds/Erisabesu
Summary: It’s no secret the twins have been at each other’s throats since birth.  What neither Kiyoomi nor Shouyou can understand, however, is why the Christmas holiday in particular seems to morph their husbands into complete and utter nitwits.Kiyoomi and Osamu are hosting the Miya Clan's Christmas festivities.  That is, if the twins don't ruin everything first.  ♥
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu, Miya Osamu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 15
Kudos: 90
Collections: 🐶🍙 omigiri fanfic collection





	Comfort & Joy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [miyaosamu (kunimi)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunimi/gifts), [yakus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yakus/gifts).



> For Jane and Iris, true Omigiri queens! ♥

###  Comfort & Joy

After a long day of shopping and wrapping gifts, Kiyoomi and Osamu open their home to Atsumu and Shouyou for the final preparations before tomorrow’s Chrismas Day Miya Clan festivities.

The state-of-the-art kitchen at Onigiri Miya, conveniently accessible from the modest, residential side of the building, is one of the main reasons Osamu and Kiyoomi have been the designated hosts for the family gathering since they married three years ago. 

Kiyoomi grumbles in private about the added pressure to make everything perfect, but he doesn’t truly mind the hassle of being hosts, since he’s ultimately more comfortable in his own home than he is being a guest at someone else’s. He’s fine visiting Atsumu and Shouyou’s tiny little shoebox apartment, of course, but they have so little room to spare, it just makes sense for him and Osamu to be the hosts. And, honestly, it’s now a point of pride to provide the setting for warm moments of good cheer at the end of each year.

In the dining room, Kiyoomi and Shouyou are hard at work decorating the cookies Shouyou and Atsumu baked that morning. They form an assembly line of sorts, with sugary glaze, sprinkles, tubes of colored icing, tiny silver candy balls, and various styles of chocolate chips to make edible santas, christmas trees, angels, elves, and stockings—to accompany the volleyball circles and onigiri triangles.

They sip hot cocoa as they work, sharing sideways glances and eyerolls because of all the ridiculous noise coming from the shop’s kitchen just around the corner. 

It’s no secret the twins have been at each other’s throats since birth. What neither Kiyoomi nor Shouyou can understand, however, is why the Christmas holiday in particular seems to morph their husbands into complete and utter nitwits, where the second the twins are together under one roof, their intelligence and emotional stability plummet in proportion to the volume of their snarky digs at each other and general insufferability. 

They are currently in the kitchen,  _ supposedly  _ prepping a turkey and yeast rolls and a few other dishes for their guests to enjoy at tomorrow's feast, but the noise and arguing is getting out of hand.

"'Samu! Yer mixin' the dough too rough, the rolls are gonna be hard as bricks! It ain’t like onigiri, ya dumbass numbskull!"

"Well, ya call that half-assed gropin’ yer doin’ over there stuffin’ the turkey, ‘Tsumu? Ya gotta shove in more butter, or it's gonna be dry and stringy like yer ugly ass hairdo!"

Kiyoomi and Shouyou pause their cookie decorating and let out an aggrieved sigh. Kiyoomi pinches the bridge of his nose, and Shouyou gestures to the liquor cabinet, suggesting some fortification.

"By all means," Kiyoomi replies, holding out his mug.

Shouyou gives him a generous splash of spiced rum that blends deliciously with the cocoa. Shouyou then adds some Kahlua to his cocoa, and Kiyoomi lifts an eyebrow, thinking he'll try that combination next time. 

They’ll surely need a few more drinks after this, if the banging of pots and pans and forceful debate over figgy pudding recipes coming from the kitchen are any indication of what the rest of the evening has in store.

Once the cookies have been set on special platters and wrapped for the following day, the twins finally emerge from the kitchen. Kiyoomi and Shouyou are shocked to find the two of them in minimal disarray after such histrionics over the menu components—floury foreheads and noses and butter-drip stains on their shirt-fronts are mild, considering what had happened last year with the cranberries—and they breathe a sigh of relief.

Which is short lived, because when the twins go stomping up to the attic and haul down the boxes of decorations and lights and tree ornaments into the family room, they promptly start bickering over who is going to do the tree and who is going to do the stockings. 

Shouyou and Kiyoomi share another commiserating look and pour themselves some shots. They had hoped to avoid some of the potential points of contention by charging the twins with the grocery shopping while the two of them drove to the tree nursery and picked out a nicely-balanced evergreen, setting it up without much of a fuss, but now they follow the yelling of their husbands to find them both clutching a box marked "mantlepiece," pulling on it back and forth, trying to wrench it out from the other's hands.

The sight is pitiful. There they are, with their muppet-mouths yapping and flapping as they snarl and try to kick each other and steal the box for themselves.

Kiyoomi and Shouyou watch this for about three taps of a foot before crossing their arms and angrily clearing their throats.

_ "Why _ are you like this?" Kiyoomi questions Osamu, at the same time that Shouyou commands Atsumu, "This has got to  _ stop!" _

The twins freeze in their tracks. Kiyoomi and Shouyou point to the floor, and they put the box down. Kiyoomi and Shouyou point again at the floor, and the twins immediately sit seiza before them. A tense moment passes, both twins looking sheepish with their hands balled on their thighs.

"Osamu, will you help me decorate the tree?" Kiyoomi asks, though it's not really a question.

"Of course, Kiyo," Osamu says, straightening his posture. "Be delighted to."

"Mm." Kiyoomi nods, then looks at Shouyou, who nods.

"Atsumu, let's get our coats and hats and go hang the lights outside," Shouyou says, his smile deceptively mild.

"'Course, my little pumpkin," Atsumu squares his shoulders, rubbing his neck. "I’d love to help ya."

Shouyou turns to Kiyoomi. "Then, after that, Omi and I will do the mantle and hang the stockings," Shouyou suggests.

Kiyoomi nods in agreement, and though the matter is finished, neither of them miss the disquieted glance exchanged by the twins. 

The two couples get to work on their separate tasks without further comment. When Atsumu and Shouyou have bundled each other up and gone outside, giggling and flirting all the way, Kiyoomi and Osamu take up the boxes of tree decorations and start separating the garlands and ribbons from the ornaments.

“Ya picked a good lookin’ tree, Kiyo,” Osamu says, handing Kiyoomi the star to place on the topmost branch. 

“I’ve got a good eye,” Kiyoomi smirks, then stretches on his toes to secure the star in position, fiddling with it until it’s lined up to his liking. 

Osamu takes advantage of Kiyoomi’s exposed middle to wrap arms around him from behind. “The best eye,” he agrees, smiling into Kiyoomi’s neck. “Or eyes, really.”

Kiyoomi chuckles, giving the star one last twist before deciding it’s as perfect as it’s going to get. He turns around in Osamu’s arms and squints at him, linking his hands around Osamu’s neck. “Why do I think you’re actually complimenting yourself, here.”

Osamu smirks. “Whatever do ya mean?”

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes. “Saying I have good eyes while implying that it’s because I married  _ you.” _

“Well, ya did marry me, didn’tcha?” Osamu cocks his head.

Kiyoomi’s expression goes flat, recalling the hours of shouting and carrying on he’s endured so far. “And every Christmas I contemplate divorce.”

Osamu slumps, groaning into Kiyoomi’s collarbone. “I can’t help it! I get so worked up when he’s here, actin’ all high and mighty.”

Kiyoomi doesn’t have to ask who “he” is. 

“What on earth are you two competing about? Besides the usual bullcrap?” Kiyoomi asks, genuinely perplexed. He slides his hands through the hair at Osamu’s temples, and tilts his head back so he can peer at him. 

”What is it that turns my steady, reliable, capable, talented—”

“—don’t forget tall, dark, an’ handsome,” Osamu smirks.

Kiyoomi shifts his thumbs to push Osamu’s cheeks into a duck face. “ _ —egotistical _ husband into a blithering idiot  _ man-child?” _

Osamu’s whine is so tragic and forlorn, Kiyoomi releases his husband’s face.

“Haven’t ya seen ‘em?” Osamu grimaces. “All that hand-holdin’ and glowin’ skin? Makin’ moony-eyes and gigglin’ together? How could anyone stay sane?”

Kiyoomi lifts his brows. “You mean Atsumu and Shouyou?”

“Yes!” Osamu throws his hands up, turning around and pacing in the small area between the tree and the boxes of ornaments. “God! All day with their grabby hands and hearts in their eyes, they are just so—disgustin’ly  _ shmoopy.” _

Kiyoomi huffs a laugh, and Osamu whirls on him. 

“S’not funny, Kiyo!” Osamu points. “Yer not the one he’s shooting those smug, superior looks at all the time, those beady eyes sayin’, ‘Oh-ho! Look at  _ us _ an’ how goddamn  _ happy _ we are! Bet ya wish ya knew this kinda bliss, loser!’ Then he gloats about living in Brazil those couple of years and all the stamps in their passports from their International games, and it’s just so irritating how he goes on and on, actin’ all superior ‘cause he’s been takin’ on the world alongside Shouyou!” 

This last part stabs right through Kiyoomi’s chest. Aside from a visit to Brazil when Atsumu and Shouyou were living abroad, he and Osamu have not traveled outside of Japan at all. Their obligations have kept them close to home, what with the shop and the Jackals schedule, but Kiyoomi has never thought of that as… confining. Or lackluster.

Kiyoomi knows about the twins’ vow from high school, and wonders if Osamu might be having some regrets. He folds his arms to cover the sting of this line of thought while Osamu continues talking.

“Just ‘cause they got married  _ first _ , ‘Tsumu thinks he’s got the edge, and every year he lords it over me like a jackass.” Osamu halts his pacing, hands on his hips. 

Kiyoomi glances down, biting his lip, before he sets the jut of his chin. “And you believe him?”

Osamu jerks. He blinks, brow furrowed. 

“You believe him when he says he’s happier than you?” Kiyoomi presses, moving closer.

“Fuck no!” Osamu gestures wildly. “He ain’t got a fuckin’ clue, he’s full of bullshit!”

“You believe him when he says they’re happier than  _ us _ ?” Kiyoomi locks their eyes.

Osamu doesn’t flinch. “No way,” he states. “There’s no way they’re even  _ close  _ to as happy as we are, Kiyo.”

Kiyoomi holds his gaze for a beat, then two. “You’re sure?”

“Am I sure?” Osamu boggles at him. “‘Course I’m sure!” He cradles Kiyoomi’s face in his warm palms. 

“Every day with ya is my greatest happiness, Kiyo. Mornin' yoga and evenin' stretches with ya, cooking for ya, eatin’ yer cookin’ when I’m stuck late at the shop, vacationin’ in luxury resorts with ya, how ya make sure we never run out of sanitizing wipes.” Then Osamu leers, caressing Kiyoomi’s face. “Or condoms, for that matter,” he adds.

Kiyoomi feels the heat rushing to his cheeks as Osamu continues.

“Yer laugh, yer sharp tongue, yer killer spikes and serves, yer way with Ma and Baa-san, yer stack of books on the nightstand and how ya read almost a hundred per year, yer intellect and all yer precious peculiarities, yer height, yer curls, yer moles, yer everything—ya bring me joy, and comfort. Ya bring me  _ peace of mind. _ I love ya more than anythin’, Kiyoomi.”

Kiyoomi’s lips purse, but his heart vibrates gleefully in his chest at the conviction in Osamu’s words, which chase away all his earlier worries.

Kiyoomi pinches Osamu’s nose and wiggles it until Osamu laughs and says, “Ow!”

Then Kiyoomi taps him on the forehead. “You better not ever start thinking that there’s anything lacking with you, me, our marriage, or our life.”

“I’d never think that,” Osamu says, shaking his head.

“And if there’s anything you want to change, or try, or…  _ anything. _ You tell me.” Kiyoomi looks him in the eyes. “Because your happiness is my happiness.”

Osamu’s expression turns so fond, Kiyoomi aches.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Osamu replies. “I promise ya, Kiyoomi.” 

He pulls Kiyoomi closer by the elbows for a hug, angling his head and leaning in for a kiss. Before he can close the distance, Kiyoomi rests his hands on Osamu’s shoulders to keep some space between them.

“Kiyoomi?” Osamu looks confused, and his hands gently squeeze Kiyoomi’s forearms.

Kiyoomi gives him an apologetic look, before bending down to brush their lips together while keeping their bodies apart. Then he whispers, “There’s still butter on your shirt.”

Osamu glances down at the butter stains on his front that have turned gray from the flour and dust that have stuck to him from the kitchen and the attic. He looks up at Kiyoomi, and then bursts into laughter.

“Oh my god,” Osamu snickers. Then he grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it clear over his head, baring his chest. “How’s this then, Kiyo?”

Kiyoomi takes in Osamu’s smooth skin and tight muscles, especially his delicious pecs, nipples tight from the chill in the room. He licks his lips subconsciously and Osamu chuckles, tossing his shirt to the ground and reaching for his husband. 

This time Kiyoomi doesn’t protest being pulled against Osamu’s body and kissed breathless, feeling those strong hands hug him close and then settle at the small of his back, teasing the edge of his waistband. Kiyoomi curls his tongue around Osamu’s and works his fingers from the back of Osamu’s shoulders to the nape of his neck, tracing up into Osamu’s undercut where his scalp is the most sensitive.

Osamu moans eagerly into the kiss, sliding his thigh between Kiyoomi’s. Kiyoomi lets out an answering rumble, and considers just grabbing Osamu by his belt buckle and dragging him upstairs to their bedroom that very minute. The unfinished tree niggles at him, but now they’ve started something else that needs finishing, and Osamu’s hands are shifting lower, and  _ fuck— _

“How long do ya think they’ll be outside?” Osamu asks between kisses, hands kneading Kiyoomi’s ass in urgency.

Kiyoomi sighs into Osamu’s neck, their bulges rubbing together in infuriating slowness. “Not  _ that  _ long,” he replies, disappointed that they don’t have more time—or privacy.

Osamu glides his hands up Kiyoomi’s back so he can sink his fingers into Kiyoomi’s curls, and kiss him soundly on the mouth.

“Don’t underestimate me, Kiyo,” he taunts, grinning wide enough to show canines.

Kiyoomi’s belly swoops with lust. Then Osamu grabs his middle and tosses him over his broad shoulder.

“Osamu!” Kiyoomi admonishes, grabbing hold of the back of Osamu’s jeans for stability as his husband runs up the stairs into their bedroom and kicks the door closed behind them with his socked foot.

Osamu sets Kiyoomi on the bed in a sprawl, and then locks the door before he  _ pounces. _

— 

Kiyoomi is also not one to be underestimated. As quickies go, this one ranks up there with some of the most satisfying and passionate quickies they’ve ever had.

Despite taking the time to change clothes afterwards so it’s less obvious what they’ve just been up to—they both put on their matching holiday pajamas, which is a Miya family Christmas Eve tradition—Kiyoomi and Osamu finish wrapping the tree with garlands and hang about three-quarters of the ornaments by the time Shouyou and Atsumu come in from outside, laughing and stamping their feet from the cold.

“Hello!” Shouyou calls out. “Guess what—it started snowing out there!”

“But we finished all the lights, Ma’s gonna love ‘em!” Atsumu adds, as they remove shoes and coats and make their way over towards the family room.

Kiyoomi exchanges a smirk with Osamu, and leans in for one last kiss before their guests join them by the tree.

“Wow!” Shouyou looks up at the tree, eyes sparkling as he blows on his cold hands and rubs them together. “This looks amazing!”

“Not bad, not bad,” Atsumu chimes in, coming up behind Shouyou and rubbing his hands up and down Shouyou’s arms over his sweater. “Although it’s pretty easy to stay indoors where it’s cozy to hang some ornaments, compared to climbing ladders and stringing lights outside in a blizzard, ya know.”

Kiyoomi and Osamu share a mirthful glance, then roll their eyes.

“I’ll go make ya some tea,” Osamu says, heading for the kitchen.

Kiyoomi looks from Atsumu to Shouyou and nods towards the hall leading to the first floor guest room. “Why don’t you both get changed into your pajamas—take a moment to warm up?”

“Great idea,” Atsumu says, draping himself over Shouyou and kissing the top of his head. 

Shouyou gives Kiyoomi a once-over, then shoots him a sly look. Kiyoomi sighs internally—he didn’t think the pajamas would fool Shouyou, but he had hoped. He also wouldn’t put it past Shouyou to try some hanky-panky of his own in the interim, so Kiyoomi clears his throat. 

“Tea will be ready in a few minutes,” he comments.

Shouyou’s sly look becomes a knowing leer. “Plenty of time to change,” he replies, then crooks his head at Atsumu. “Ready?”

“Yep!” Atsumu agrees, straightening up so they can head for the guest room, hand in hand.

Osamu appears several minutes later with two tea mugs, which he sets on the coffee table. In a few more minutes, Shouyou and Atsumu return wearing their matching pajamas—which  _ also  _ match Osamu and Kiyoomi’s. If it didn’t make their Ma and Baa-san so deliriously happy for the twins and their spouses to wear matching Christmas pajamas, Kiyoomi would never be caught dead in such hideous prints. 

Kiyoomi takes in Shouyou’s “mischief managed” smirk and Atsumu’s red-tipped ears and flushed neck, and decides not to comment. He and Osamu finish decorating the tree while Atsumu and Shouyou sip their tea and unpack the decorations for the mantlepiece, including the stockings—which are traditionally hung on the upper part of the wall above the family portraits, mirroring the setup from Osamu and Atsumu’s childhood.

When the tree is finished, Osamu nods in approval to Kiyoomi, placing a hand on his back. Kiyoomi feels the warmth of true love and contentment radiating from where they touch, and actually melts a little when Osamu leans in to place a chaste kiss beside his ear.

This is ruined, unfortunately, when Osamu whispers, “Make sure our stockings are higher than theirs, Kiyo.  _ Please. _ I’m countin’ on ya.”

Kiyoomi levels him with an unimpressed stare. Osamu chuckles, unrepentant, and then retreats with Atsumu to the kitchen to make the four of them some boozy eggnog and a plate of sweet snacks, while Shouyou and Kiyoomi decorate the mantle and hang the stockings.

“You know,” Shouyou starts, handing Kiyoomi a stocking to hang, since he’s tall enough to reach without a stepstool. “Atsumu asked me to make sure our stockings are hung—” 

“—higher than ours?” Kiyoomi finishes, eyebrow raised. Shouyou’s mouth opens in surprise, then shifts easily into a grin as he laughs.

“Yeah!” he confirms.

“Sounds familiar.” Kiyoomi sends him a wry smirk.

Shouyou scratches his neck. “You know, sometimes Atsumu gets… a little jealous.”

Kiyoomi lowers the stocking in his hands and faces Shouyou. 

Shouyou looks around the room, and then shrugs, exasperated. “You guys have a bigger place, with two stories and a guest room, and it’s attached to a successful business. You’ve made a home, planted roots. Thrived.”

Kiyoomi pauses at this, then says, “But look at all the places you’ve been. Adapted to new cultures. Made a home with nothing but four walls and the two of you. Maintained friendships along the way.”

“Yes!” Shouyou gestures. “Exactly!”

Kiyoomi frowns. 

Shouyou chuckles and touches Kiyoomi’s arm. “Different doesn’t mean better. You two, you’re you, and we’re us. And I think we’re all super happy!”

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes and lets out a chuckle, even though the simple truth of Shouoyou’s words fills him with a dizzying sense of elation. “I agree.”

“Right?” Shouyou bounces on his toes. “That’s why this whole competition about the food and the tree and the stockings is so silly!”

Kiyoomi nods. “Happiness can’t be measured, or compared.”

“Just felt!” Shouoyou concludes, hands crossed over his heart, and a smile lighting up the room.

Kiyoomi looks at the stocking in his hands. “I have an idea,” he says, smirking at Shouyou.

Shouyou’s eyes go wide, and he nods eagerly.

When Atsumu and Osamu return to the family room with a tray of sweets and another of eggnog, they halt in their tracks, jaws open.

Shouyou and Kiyoomi show off their work above the mantle proudly, where they have deviated from the usual horizontal row formation and instead have pinned the family stockings in two diagonals that make the shape of a Christmas tree. At the top are the stockings for the twins’ mother and grandmother, and then angled downward on each side, are Kiyoomi and Shouyou’s stockings, and then last set, angled further outward and lined up at the exact same height above the mantelpiece, are the twins’ stockings.

Osamu and Atsumu look at each other in surprise, but just as their spouses hoped, they appear to have no complaints with their matriarchs’ stockings being the highest of all, followed by their husbands’ stockings, with theirs last. If the arrangement of stockings is supposed to indicate the level of one’s happiness, Kiyoomi and Shouyou are relieved to have guessed rightly that Osamu with all his consideration and thoughtfulness, and Atsumu with his capacity for love and ability to connect with others, could not possibly argue with the image before them. 

Because for all the ways they are different, one thing the twins share is an effortless selflessness when it comes to prioritizing the joy and wellbeing of those that they love.

“Is that the eggnog?” Kiyoomi asks, gently recapturing their attention.

The twins shake themselves from their reverie, and bring over the trays. 

“This one’s yers, pumpkin,” Atsumu says, passing a glass to his husband.

“This one’s just the way you like it, Kiyo,” Osamu says, holding out a glass for his husband.

Kiyoomi and Shouyou gesture to the couch, so Osamu and Atsumu can have a seat. Once the twins are settled in, Kiyoomi and Shouyou exchange a smirk and then without ceremony, sit in their husband’s laps. The twins are a bit flustered at first—neither couple is quite this demonstrative under normal circumstances—but once everyone has clinked glasses and swallowed some delicious eggnog, the late hour of Christmas Eve passes with a very comfortable buzz.

In the morning, Osamu will wake early to start smoking the turkey. When the others are up, they’ll have something light to eat and will put all the presents under the tree for when the twins’ mother and grandmother, and perhaps a cousin or two, join them for the noon feast. The table will overflow with wine and meat, pudding and sweets, stories and memories and dreams for the new year. All day they will make merry, exchanging gifts and cherishing each other’s laughter, jokes, and the occasional teasing remark—as befits any Miya clan celebration.

In this moment, however, Kiyoomi is content to enjoy his eggnog, and wrap his arms around Osamu, kissing him on the temple, sure in his heart that given the chance for a Christmas wish, he wouldn’t change even a single tiny thing about this life they share, filled to the brim as it is with comfort and joy.

  
  


Fin. ♥  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to share [this tweet](https://twitter.com/erisabesu3/status/1344823171908841472)! ♥
> 
> Your comments are appreciated! And wishing you and yours a fantastic New Year! xoxo


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